


A Tattooed Christmas

by waywardlesbian



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, An Attempt At Humour, First Kiss, First Tattoo, Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Normal AU, Simon POV, Snogging, SnowBaz, Tattoo Artist Baz, mention of death (Lucy and Natasha), simon gets a tattoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:02:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28392102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardlesbian/pseuds/waywardlesbian
Summary: Penny surprises Simon with his Christmas gift: a tattoo from Baz, her friend from uni. Over the course of the night, Simon becomes a bit obsessed with his tattoo artist, leading to a much more exciting Christmas Eve than he had expected!
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 16
Kudos: 144
Collections: Winter Holiday Collection 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ladyofthefl0wers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyofthefl0wers/gifts).



> A holiday exchange gift for Chel!! I'm sorry it's a bit late, but I hope you enjoy it! I also hope that you've enjoyed the holiday season, and I wish you all the best in the new year!!! Hopefully this fic works with your prompt, I tried to make it kind of accurate!! Happy Holidays!! 💜 💜 💜 
> 
> Also thank you to Di (Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire [Link text](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire)) for betaing this fic and helping me with ideas, I couldn't have written this without your help and patience!!! 💜💜💜

“Come on, Si, we’re going to be late,” Penny calls out from the entryway. 

“I’d have been on time if I knew I was coming with you!” I shout back, tearing through the piles of laundry on my floor. “You said that Mitali uninvited me from Christmas after the disaster last year, so I thought I’d be staying home.” 

“I have to take you to your Christmas gift! Hurry up!” 

“Yeah, alright,” I grumble, finally spotting a cleanish pair of jeans under a week’s worth of laundry and yanking them on. 

I do them up and burst into the hallway, managing to stay on my feet as I jog to the front where Penny is holding her overnight bag and tapping away on her mobile. She looks up as I pull my trainers on. 

“Ready?” She asks as I throw on my jacket. 

“Yes. Now will you please tell me why I have to leave the flat to get my gift? And why you won’t tell me what my gift is?” I follow her down the stairs, carrying one of her bags. 

“Because it's a surprise! It’s no fun if you know what you’re getting!” She announces, holding that door open for me at the bottom of the stairs. 

I sigh as I follow her to the car and put her bag in the boot. “You knew exactly what your gift was because you sent me into a bookshop with a list.” I retort as I slide into the passenger seat. 

“That’s different! And you asked for suggestions, so I gave you them!” She pulls out into the road before I’ve even gotten my seatbelt on. “I hope we’re not late, he hates it when people are late,” she’s muttering to herself. “He’s already doing me a favour.”

“Who is?” 

“Be patient, Simon. You’ll find out in like, five minutes.” 

It’s actually six minutes, which I point out, as she pulls into a car park beside a line of stores with darkened storefronts. She snorts. 

“And these all look deserted, Pen. Is my gift supposed to be getting jumped in a back alley?”

“Yes, Simon, for Christmas I thought you’d liked to get stabbed in a car park, it sounded like fun.” She rolls her eyes before pushing me out of the car. “Come on, I think we’re right on time.” 

We wander past a few doors until she stops in front of a place with “Pitch Black Tattoo Parlour” written across the window in cursive. 

She pulls out her phone. 

“This is it, I’ll just let him know we’re here.” 

“No, wait, really? Is this actually a tattoo place?”

“Yep. One of my friends from uni is an artist here. He’s been ordered to give you whatever you want, all taken care of.”

“No way, Penny!” I yell, a bit shocked. I’ve talked about wanting to get a tattoo for forever, but I’ve always been a bit skint and it's hard to set aside money for tattoos when there’s rent and food to pay for. “That’s way too much!” 

“It’s from Shepard too. And I’m getting a friend’s discount or something, so please don’t worry about it Si. Happy Christmas.” She pulls me into a hug. 

“You’re the best, Pen. Thank you.” I give her a squeeze before I step back, which was just in time because as I move, the door flies open. 

In the door is the most fit man I’ve ever seen. He’s in all black, with tight jeans and a long sleeved v-neck that’s hugging every hard line and angle of his chest and arms. Tattoos are peaking out from his sleeves, and crawling up his neck. 

His dark hair is pulled back into a bun, and Christ, I never would’ve guessed I’d like a bloke with long hair, but I immediately want to pull out the tie and run my hands through it.

I snap out of it as Penny grabs his hand. “Hey Baz, thanks again for doing this! This is Simon Snow, he’s your canvas for the evening.”

He turns to me, looking me up and down. 

“Nice to meet you.” His voice just about knocks the breath out of me, and all I can do is nod in response. 

“Right, let’s get started then. Are you sticking around, Bunce?” He — Baz — asks Penny.

“No, just giving him a ride, I’ve got a family dinner to get to.”

He wrinkles his nose, like that’s something distasteful, and I realize that he must be annoyed about getting stuck alone with me. 

Figures. No one can be this fit and still be a decent person, it would make sense that he’s a bit of a prick. 

I grit my teeth. I am not going to disappoint Penny, and I’ve looked forward to getting a tattoo for so long that I refuse to let an arse of a tattoo artist ruin my excitement. 

“Thanks again, Pen. Should we get started, though?” 

“Good idea, Simon, I should get on the road anyways, I’m already late to picking up Shepard. Have fun, you two.” She gives Baz a quick hug, him rolling his eyes the whole time, before pulling me into one as well. Then she’s off, headed back towards her car. 

I watch her leave for a moment, before Baz clears his throat. 

“You’ll have to come inside then,” he mutters, and holds the door open for me as he corrals me through the door. 

The studio is barely lit, I guess because they’re technically closed. He leads me to the desk before pointing off to the side. “My chair is in the back, the one with the light on, just let me grab the forms and my sketchbook and I’ll meet you there in a moment.”

I nod as he disappears into a room behind the front desk. I wander further into the back, trying to make out the tattoo art hung up on the walls as I walk. There are so many beautiful pieces, and I wonder how many of them are Baz’s. 

I find the one chair that’s surrounded by a few lamps and take a seat. 

I look around, but the space is neat and just about empty. There are a few photos next to a desktop computer, one of Baz with a young girl that looks almost the same as him, although her skin is lighter and her eyes are brown, not grey. 

There’s also a photo of him with two guys hanging off of his shoulders, one with red hair and the other with brown, Baz rolling his eyes at the camera. 

I hear footsteps and twist to sit straight ahead again as Baz sits on the stool beside me. 

“Penny gave me an idea of what you’d like so I drew up some sketches. Let me know what you think of these, I can make any adjustments you’d like.”

He hands me three pages, his fingers brushing against mine, and I can’t help but blush. 

The designs are beautiful, all with a rose at the center, one in colour with smaller roses surrounding it, one with vines and thorns twining through the rose, and the third one, simple and in black and white, with leaves surrounding the rose. 

“That one, that’s perfect.” I hand the sketch with the simple black and white rose back to him. 

“Do you want to make any changes to it? I can add colour as well.” He asks, taking the other two sketches and filing them in one of the drawers by the computer. 

“No, it's beautiful, absolutely perfect, mate.” I’m so excited that this is finally happening, I’ve wanted to get this tattoo done since the funeral. 

“Alright then, just let me get my things set up and we’ll get started. Where did you want it?” He’s so cool and distant, it’s a bit frustrating. 

“Oh, um, on the front of my right shoulder, I think?”

“Here?” He asks, lightly touching my collarbone, his hand ghosting over to my shoulder. I nod, swallowing hard and trying to stop myself from blushing too much, although I’m sure I fail. 

“How big?” He takes his hand back, rolling his stool back over to his computer. 

“The size it is on the page is good.” He’s moved far enough away that my voice is steady. 

“Right, here we go then.” I hear the whir of a printer or something, and a drawer open. “You’ll have to take your shirt off.”

“Yea, right, sorry.” I blush again, and sit up a bit to pull my shirt off. 

I set it in my lap, and lay back against the chair. I feel a bit exposed and it's awkward to be shirtless around such a fit guy, but I suppose he’s probably used to shirtless people. It’d be less weird if he was shirtless too, and I get so distracted by imagining him without his shirt on that I don’t notice that he’s rolled back over to me. 

His voice knocks me out of imagining what I’d do to him if I got him out of his shirt, and I’m sure I’m still blushing like a madman. 

I swallow slowly, trying to recollect myself as he says “I’m just going to shave the area for the tattoo.” He’s looking at me like I’m a bit daft, and I wonder if I missed something else he’d said already. 

I nod and hold my breath as he touches me again, and I’m struggling to appear calm. I don’t know what it is about him that affects me so much, it’s not like I haven’t been around fit people before. Something about those grey eyes, maybe. 

The worst part is that while I feel like this, he’s so fucking calm and cool. I’d love to see him riled up, even just a little bit flustered would be ace. 

He finishes shaving, moving his hands off of me again, and I finally let out my breath. I’ll have to figure out another way to handle him touching me, I can’t hold my breath for the whole tattoo. 

I think about the best way to get at him while he rolls back over to the counter. Penny would tell anyone that I’m shite at flirting, but it might not hurt to try? I don’t want to make him uncomfortable though, I just want to see what he’s like when he’s not looking down his nose at me. Pretentious, fit, prick. 

I’m pulled out of my thoughts again, this time by him rolling back over with a weird piece of paper.

“This is the stencil, I’m going to rub a wet cloth over your skin and then I’ll place this, alright?” I nod, and he does just that. 

His touch is firm as he presses the page down, and I fight the urge to tug at my hair just in case it messes up the stencil placement. He reaches behind himself and hands me a mirror.

“That spot is alright?”

I hold the mirror up and see the tattoo placed across my shoulder, exactly like I had imagined. “It's perfect, thanks mate.” He nods. 

“Let’s get to it then.” His facial expression still hasn’t changed once since we got into the studio. 

I almost miss the way he wrinkled his nose at me outside. But as Baz pulls out the tattoo machine, I get reminded again about what's about to happen and I can’t help but be excited. 

He lines everything up on a tray, messes around with the machine a bit, and then turns to look at me. “You’re ready? This will take around an hour and a half, you can sit for that long?” He’s still looking down that long, perfect, fucking nose of his at me. 

The question feels like an insult and I’m a bit annoyed, “Of course I can sit for that long, I’m not a child.” 

He rolls his eyes, “Sure, Snow. I’m going to start, then.” 

I nod, resisting the urge to growl at him a bit. I forgot that tattoos involved needles though, and as I hear the machine start to buzz, I realize that I’m about to spend that hour and a half getting stabbed over and over again. 

I take a deep breath and clench my fists as the needle touches my skin. I can’t quite hold in the grunt of pain, but he continues. 

“Fuck,” I exhale as he pulls back after a moment. 

“Do you need a break?” He looks down at me as he stretches his back, and I grit my teeth. There’s no way I’m asking for a break from this prick. 

“No, I’m brilliant,” I growl, trying to keep my voice steady. “Let’s keep going.” 

He nods before leaning over me again and getting back to work. 

Eventually the buzzing fades to background noise and the feel of the needles becomes a bit more faint. 

And as that happens, I begin to notice how close Baz is leaning into me to work on my shoulder. I can smell his hair, or his cologne, something citrusy and a bit woodsy I think? It smells amazing, and also posh, somehow. 

Of course he would even smell pretentious, the bastard. I all but fall into a trance as I drink Baz in, thinking about his hair and watching his shoulders as he works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have the next chapter posted by the end of the week!! I hope you enjoyed it!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two! Thanks again to Di (Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire) for betaing this fic!!! Hope you enjoy :)

I don’t know how much time passes before he leans back again, and I’m shaken out of fantasies about running my hands through his hair.

“We’re nearly done.” I hear his voice, startling me. “I’m going to take a quick break, I’ll be back in five minutes or so. There’s a washroom to the left if you need it.”

I nod, but he’s already out of sight. I sit up and swing my legs back over the chair before standing up and walking in a circle. 

Damn him and how fucking fit he is. At least it’s distracting me from the pain. And it’s making the time pass. 

I just wish— 

I don’t know. I run my hand through my hair, tugging at my curls. I’m frustrated that I just sat with this gorgeous bloke for nearly an hour and didn’t even try to chat him up. 

He’s clearly an arsehole but it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? If Penny’s friends with him he can’t be completely terrible. 

I pace around the chair a few more times, and while stomping around I become determined to get something out of him, even if it's just small talk about his work. 

I’d prefer to get his mobile number, or at least a smile, but we’ll start small. 

I settle back in my chair as I hear a door shut at the front of the studio. 

He comes back, sitting in his stool, and I’m about to try to chat him up until I notice that he’s rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. I’m left speechless. 

His forearms (his very muscular forearms) are covered in tattoos, all of them beautifully intertwined. 

His right forearm is covered in black and white vines, decorated with small flowers, all disappearing underneath his sleeve. 

His left arm is much more plain, with a small flame on the underside of his wrist, and in small script underneath, the words “little puff.”

“Wow,” I breathe out, too shocked by the beautiful designs to say anything more. I know I’m staring but I can’t help myself. 

He must notice me staring because he looks down at his arms too. 

“What, surprised that I’d have some?” He rolls his eyes. “My aunt did them.”

“Oh.” I mumble, before remembering to be surprised that he actually talked to me. I decide I’d better keep the conversation going as he reaches for the tattoo machine. “Did she teach you too?”

His eyes dart up to mine as he finishes preparing the machine. “Yea. She owns the studio.”

“Wicked.” I pause and add, “Your fire tattoo is incredible.” 

He nods. 

“Does it mean something?” I prod, and he nods again. “Yea, that makes sense. Mine does too.”

He doesn’t react at all to that, but I decide I might as well tell the whole story.

“My mum always called me her rosebud boy. She passed away a few years ago and I’ve been wanting to get this done ever since but I’m skint and I wasn’t sure how to go about finding a place to get it done.”

“It's a bit intimidating to get started with,” he agrees, and that’s all the encouragement I need. 

“Thank Christ for Penny. And you, um.” I can feel myself blushing. “And that she knew you, uh.” I struggle for a moment before landing on a topic. “Penny met you at uni, right? Did you do that before starting here?”

Baz has started back to work on my shoulder but I’ve hardly noticed, now that I’ve got him talking. “Yea. I did a year of Politics before deciding to apprentice with Fiona.”

“And how did Penny meet you? I didn’t think she had any classes in politics.” He isn’t making this easy but it's worth the effort just to hear his posh, deep voice. 

“We had a history class together,” he mutters, continuing to fill in the design on my shoulder. “We got put in the same group for a paper and Bunce wouldn’t leave me alone after the course ended.”

“That sounds like Penny.” I say, and I swear he smirks. Elated that I got him to smile, or almost at least, I push on. “So you quit uni to do this? I guess you like this more than politics?”

His face smooths out again and I regret saying anything immediately. 

He surprises me, though, and answers, “I do. My father wanted me to get into politics like him, but it didn’t suit me. My aunt talked me into working for her over the summer after my first year and I liked it enough that I’ve stuck around.” 

That’s the most he’s said all night and I’m so caught up in his voice that I almost forget that I should say something back. “Yea, you’d be a rubbish politician.” I pause then, dramatically drumming my fingers against my chin. “Actually, forget that, I think you’d be a bloody good politician. You’re all posh and you’ve got a bit of an air about you. Is it too late to start up with uni again?”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re right, Snow. I’d best abandon you now and head straight back to school.” 

He slides his stool back and I try to hide a smile. He’s smirking as he rolls in close again and continues on with his work. 

“I do like this more, though,” he says earnestly, “I like learning about things but there’s nothing I’d want to do with a uni degree.”

I nod, “Yea, that’s how I felt too. I was always rubbish at school and there didn’t seem to be any point in going to uni if I wasn’t going to be happy about it.”

He nods. After a pause he says, “How did you meet Bunce, then, if you didn’t go to uni together?”

“Oh, we’ve been friends since primary, she came up to me on the first day and told me that we were going to be best friends.” I laugh. “That was the first in a long line of things she’s been right about.” 

He smirks again and I can’t get enough of it, even though it makes him look even more like a pretentious bastard. 

“That is something I’ve noticed about Bunce,” he says matter-of-factly.

“What, that she’s right about things?” I ask while Baz is still smirking. 

“Yes. She said you’d talk my ear off. I thought she’d finally made a mistake but it appears that you’ve proven her right after all.” 

He gives me a wicked grin, his teeth flashing, and I can’t stop the blush that spreads up my neck. 

I open my mouth to try and defend myself, but he pulls back and rolls away from the chair. 

“Don’t worry Snow, you’re saved by the bell. I’m finished. Are you ready to take a look?” 

I’d almost completely forgotten that I was here for a reason, and as he stands up and rolls a full size mirror out from behind the wall separating his work space from the others, I scramble out of the chair towards it. 

I’m left speechless. The rose is beautiful, the shading is perfect, and it is everything I had imagined it would be. I start to tear up as I think about how touched my mum would be if she saw it. 

I stare at the tattoo for another moment, collecting myself, before turning back to Baz.

“Thank you. It’s brilliant.” I sniff one more time and turn back the mirror to admire his work. 

I notice him step into the frame of the mirror, and he’s got a soft smile that’s so unbearably attractive that it draws my eyes away from the tattoo. 

“Of course, Snow. It is my job.” He steps out of the view of the mirror and I turn to see that his smirk has returned. “When you’re done with the mirror, I've got to put a bandage over it for a few hours."

"Oh, yea, okay." I sit back in the chair.

He gently rubs some kind of cream over the tattoo and places a bandage on top. 

"All set. You can meet me back up at the front and I’ll walk you out once you've got all of your things together.” 

“Yea, um, thanks.” 

He disappears back towards the front of the studio, and I find my shirt on the counter and slip it on. I grab my coat off the rack and pull that on too before wandering back the way I’d come in.

Baz is behind the desk, texting. 

He looks up when I lean against the desk. 

“Ready to go?”

“Um, I feel like I owe you something? For this?” I can feel myself blushing again, but it feels odd to walk out without paying. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to spend more time with him. 

“Bunce took care of it. You’re in the clear, Snow.” The mask is back, and he’s more chilled than ever. I can’t stand it. 

“Can I at least take you out for a pint? There’s a bar halfway between here and my flat, I’ve got to do something to thank you mate.” 

Maybe I can get him chatting again if we’re somewhere a little more casual. 

“It's Christmas Eve, Snow,” he sneers a bit and Christ if it isn’t ridiculously hot. 

“Oh right, you’ve probably got plans, um. Maybe another time?” 

“I don’t.” He’s looking at me intently now. “Don’t you?”

“Yea, um, no, I’ve just got Penny now and her family is sweet but they can only put up with me so much.”

“Alright,” he says, standing up and pulling a coat on. 

“Alright, what?” The view of him putting his jacket on is a bit distracting. 

“Alright, you can take me for a drink. Should we get a cab or is it close enough to walk?”

“Oh, yea, um, we can walk. It's only a few blocks.” I’m a bit dumbstruck that he’s agreed. So dumbstruck that I’ve missed him walking to the door. 

“Let’s go then,” he says, holding the door open for me. I step out in front of him, still struggling to believe that he’s actually going to go out with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll hopefully have the last chapter posted soon!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! I'm so sorry it took this long, its not even close to the holidays any more but I hope you still enjoy the last chapter! Thank you again to Di (Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire) for all of the help on this fic!!!

“I can’t believe this pub is closed.” I sigh, pressing my forehead up against the window. “It’s never closed.”

Baz is standing on the edge of the pavement, smoking. He drawls out, “It is a holiday, Snow.” 

“But it’s still early! I thought they’d at least be open until midnight.” I’m not sure what to suggest now. I’d like to draw this out more, to get to spend more time with him, but I’m not sure how. 

“You said your flat was close?” Baz asks, looking so bloody aloof, although I’d swear that his cheeks are a bit more red than they were before. 

“Yea, oh um, I could make you a drink there?” I’m stumbling over my words, but hopeful that he’ll agree since I think he was the one who suggested it?

“If you insist, Snow. I’d hate to miss out on that drink now that I’ve made it all this way.” 

“Alright, uh, follow me then. Just a few more blocks.” I set off towards my flat and Baz falls in step beside me. 

We walk in silence, and despite the butterflies in the pit of my stomach that I can’t quite get under control, it still feels comfortable with him. 

We finally make it to my building, and I type in the code to get inside before heading up the stairs to my flat. 

I can barely hear Baz’s light steps behind me as I unlock the door. I hold it open for him before silently cursing, remembering what a mess the flat was when we left. 

I flick the lights on and hang up my jacket before slipping off my shoes. 

“Um, sorry it's such a mess in here, I was planning on tidying tonight.” I mumble, trying not to blush. 

He stands in the doorway, smirking just a bit. “As long as I get that drink, I won’t be too fussed about it.”

“Yea, alright, um, want to sit in the kitchen?” He nods and I lead him into the next room. 

He takes a seat at the kitchen table and I find a few clean glasses and grab some ciders from the fridge. 

“Thanks.” He takes a sip after I set the glass down in front of him. “So you live here with Bunce? Did you move in with her when she started uni?”

“No, um. Just after my mum passed and I couldn’t afford to stay in our flat by myself. And you know, it was nice to not be alone after that.” 

He nods. “I understand.”

“Yea?”

He sets the glass down and rolls up his sleeve again, to show his small flame tattoo with the script. 

“This is for my mum, she passed away when I was five,” he speaks with a calm voice but I know better. There’s so much pain there. “That’s what she always called me.” 

I reach out and grab his hand that's resting on the table before I can think about it too much. 

“I’m sorry, that would’ve been so tough.” I squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. 

“Thanks.” There’s a bit of a pause and I feel awkward about still holding his hand. I decide to let go, and stand up. 

“I’ll grab some snacks too. I’ve got leftovers from work today if you’re into scones?”

Baz smiles a bit and nods. “Sure, Snow. That sounds good.”

I throw a few on the plate and bring them back. “Scones and cider, not a traditional pairing, I know. But it works surprisingly well.” 

He rolls his eyes before grabbing a scone and taking a bite. He smirks. “Not bad, Snow.”

“Right?”

He takes another bite. “So you work at a bakery, I presume?”

“Yea, a bakery and cafe! My mum’s friend hired me after I finished secondary and I’ve been there ever since. She’s brilliant.” I can’t help but smile when I think about Ebb. 

We chat about our jobs for a bit as we finish our drinks and scones. 

I barely contain a yawn as I finish a story about a customer throwing a drink at me, and Baz smiles. 

“What, you think it's funny that I got covered in cappuccino? Thank Christ it wasn’t still boiling.” 

“No, Snow, you're just clearly about to fall asleep at the table.” His smirk turns to a frown. “I should get going anyway, it's late.”

“Oh, yea, of course, uh.” I’m wide awake now, and not at all ready for him to leave. This has been so good and I think the fact that he’s sat around my flat for hours means that I could have a shot at this going somewhere. 

He stands up and heads for the door, but I’m right behind him, grabbing his hand.

“Or you could, um, stay?” I’m almost whispering as I look up at him, and his eyes are full of questions. 

I decide not to answer any of them, instead choosing to stand up on the tips of my toes and press my mouth to his. 

He sighs and I move my hand to run through his hair. It's as smooth as I’d imagined, and I can’t stop myself from cupping the back of his head as I continue to feel through the silky strands. 

Baz pulls back after a moment, and I’m nearly gasping for air. 

“Was that okay?” I murmur, feeling myself blush. 

He nods before pulling me back into him, chasing after my lips. He pushes me up against the door and I’m losing my mind. My hands go to his hips, pulling him closer, and he growls into my mouth. After a moment, he pulls back again. 

“Um, so do you want to?” I pant, trying to catch my breath. 

“Want to what, Snow?” He raises an eyebrow at me, although he’s breathing hard too. 

“Stay? Um, we could go to my room?” 

“Yea, alright.” I grin up at him and grab his hand, tugging him along behind me.

“Sorry, it's messy in here too,” I warn, pushing the door open with my foot, before leading him to my bed. I drop his hand and decide to be bold again. 

I take my shirt off, tossing it into the corner of the room before sitting on the bed. 

I mostly just want him to follow suit so I can see more of the tattoos that are hidden by his shirt. And because he’s ridiculously fit, but right now I just want to uncover more of the art decorating his body. 

He raises an eyebrow at me, and after a pause, reaches for the hem of his shirt too. He folds his, setting it on my desk, before sitting down beside me. 

I’m speechless, staring at the vines that move up from his arm and swirl around his torso, connecting to endless flowers that compliment the ones on his arm. 

“Wow.” I run my fingers over the tattoos, mesmerized. 

He grins. “Like what you see?”

“Yes.” I breathe out, then blush. “Um, the tattoos are incredible.”

Baz is smirking. “Right, it's definitely just the tattoos.” 

“You’re such a bastard,” I grunt before throwing my leg over his and straddling him, letting my hands run across his shoulder. 

Baz cups my cheek and chuckles, before starting to speak. 

I pull him into a kiss before he can say anything else. He laughs into my mouth and pulls back. 

“I was just going to tell you that we can take the bandage off of your tattoo now, you numpty.” He carefully peels off the bandage covering my tattoo and sets it on the bedside table. 

He smirks at me. “I did a good job.”

I laugh, before kissing him again. He lays down, pulling me after him. 

I don’t know what time it is and I don’t know how long this lasts. It feels like no time at all, and it also feels a bit like forever. 

We snog until I can’t keep my eyes open, and the last thing I remember before drifting off is seeing the light from outside the window shining across his tattooed shoulder. 

I wake up to yelling. 

“What in Morgana’s name are you doing in my kitchen?” Penny’s voice echoes down the hallway. 

I hear Baz’s voice, calm and cool. “Making tea, Bunce. Would you care for some?”

I leap out of bed, thankful that I’ve still got my jeans on. I run down the hall and into the kitchen, where Baz is standing in front of the kettle. Penny and Shep are standing in the doorway, and Penny looks about ready to burst. 

Baz turns to me, looking me up and down. “Morning, Snow.” He winks. I feel a blush erupt across my cheeks as Penny looks back and forth between us.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, “you didn’t.” 

Penny is staring at Baz now and he just shrugs, still smirking. She looks back at me. “Did you?”

“Um.” 

“Christ,” she mutters, “that is not the Christmas gift I had in mind.” 

I choke and Baz laughs. 

“Your tattoo though, Simon!” She’s staring at my shoulder now. “That’s beautiful!”

“Um, yea, Baz did a great job.” I’m still blushing and trying to catch up with Penny’s change of topic. 

“I bet he did,” Shep chimes in, snickering, and Penny smacks his arm. He just laughs. “Merry Christmas you two, I’m going to put my bags away.” He disappears into Penny’s room. 

“Yea, I’ll leave you guys to it.” Penny follows behind. “But we’re chatting later,” she says, squeezing my hand as she walks past. 

Baz turns back to me, smirk still in place. “Well, Snow. Now that you’re up, I’d best be going. I do have plans today and I’m already fashionably late.” 

He brushes past me, headed towards my room. He’s back out again before I can follow him, tugging his shirt on. 

I trail behind him back towards the door, and watch as he pulls his shoes and jacket on. 

“Thanks for the drink last night. And the scone,” he says, hand on the doorknob. 

“Yea, uh, thanks again for the tattoo.”

“Of course.” He turns the knob, but I can’t just let him leave, not after last night, not after getting a glimpse of what we could have together. I reach past him, taking his hand off the doorknob and grabbing it with mine. 

He looks back at me, and I can see surprise in his eyes. Before I can doubt myself, I go in for a kiss, pressing my lips to his. I can’t help but sigh as his hand cups my jaw. 

I pull back after a minute, a bit breathless. 

“Um. Can I give you my mobile number?” I pant. 

He stares down his nose at me for a moment. I’m about to tell him to forget about it when he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his mobile, handing it to me. I type my number in, and decide to stick a heart next to my name. 

“Text me later, yea?” I say, passing it back to him. 

“Yea, alright Snow. Merry Christmas,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead before stepping back and grabbing the doorknob again. 

“Merry Christmas,” I say back, grinning. 

He smiles at me, just a bit, before disappearing through the door. I’m still grinning at the closed door like a numpty when I hear my phone go off. I run back to my room and see a text from a new number. 

11:43 a.m.  _ Really, Snow? A heart? _

And as I add the number to my contacts and type out a reply, I can’t help but feel like Penny had really gotten me the best Christmas gift ever. 


End file.
